Princess at War
by lakauz
Summary: War is looming in the OZ and two Gale women are vying for Cain's affections, his choice may effect the outcome of the war or destroy the House of Gale. Cain/DG/OC. Jeb/Az as well.
1. Chapter 1

Princess at War

Chapter One

As the transport pulled up to the old ruined farmhouse; that had been chosen the pick-up point, Cain grimaced and stretched his back in order to get at least a little more comfortable. It had been nearly eight full hours since they'd left Finaqua, only punctuated by a short pit stop along the old forest road for the men to relieve their bladders or grab a bite of food. Cain had done a quick inspection of the vehicles, sipped his cold coffee and called "ready" to resume. He ignored the grumbling of the men who thought that the earliness of the hour and the emptiness of the road meant that their passage had gone unnoticed, so a longer break was in order. He simply stared them down and made ready to continue; knowing a deserted road in the middle of the night would be perfect for a Longcoat ambush. If the Longcoat spy network was half as efficient as it was before Cain had been confined to the tin suit, they'd have known about the convoy hours ago.

A lone figure walked out from the darkness from what had once been a barn, moving forward it stopped twenty feet from the truck and waited. "Show time," thought Cain, a phrase he'd stolen from the Mystic Man, who always used it as a good luck charm before any important consult or on the few occasions when he'd demonstrated his gifts in public. Opening the truck door, Cain climbed out and walked toward the figure. He stopped, a moment passed, then another, neither figure moving. Finally, as was prearranged both figures uncapped the jars they'd been holding.

A strange, dull green light spewed forth from the jars, taking shape, like a ghostly plant, twisting and growing, spreading into long sinewy tendrils, reaching to join with their mate. Cain felt the weight of the jar in his hand change, despite the essence of the creature seeming to leave the jar and grow forward, the jar itself felt heavier and warmer as thought more changes were taking place inside. Finally, the essences touched, shone brilliant and disappeared.

The figure whistled and was joined within a moment by twenty other shapes, though Cain sensed many other eyes still hidden in the shadows were upon him as well. Quick embraces were exchanged and one figure emerged from the group and sprinted to the truck.

Cain had only been told that he was to retrieve the head of the resistance in the west and return as soon as possible to Finaqua. Curiosity and his own sense of duty made this an intriguing assignment, as he'd heard many stories about the daring and valour of the Western resistance as well as the near miraculous gift of its leader to flush out spies, resist ambushes and free captured comrades.

"Cain?" asked the voice of the shadowed figure.

"The One?" returned Cain, as he nodded in response and gestured toward the truck. The pick-up had gone well so far, but there was no use staying around longer than necessary. The figured nodded and ran around the front to climb into the passenger side of the cab. Turning back to the farm, Cain noticed everyone had disappeared, returning the farm yard scene to it's abandoned appearance.

Climbing into the cab, he turned toward his passenger, who seemed even more slight than he'd imagined in the darkness of the cab. He put his hand on the ignition and then changed his mind and extended to the newcomer.

" Wyatt Cain."

Pausing for a moment, the passenger pulled back a hood releasing a cascade of blue black hair and turned toward Cain with hand extended as well. "Kara-Gale, Princess of Asher and the Westlands."

Her grip was firm and Cain was dumbstruck. The western resistance leader was a woman and a princess as well. That she was a Gale would be obvious to anyone who saw her. She reminded him of DG, or at least how he imagined DG to look in about a decade, expect that her eyes shone emerald green and seemed to sparkle in the faint moonlight coming through the windshield. He held her hand for a moment and then released it, still staring into a face that he knew so well and yet was totally new to him.

"Cain, we must leave."

Snapping his mind back to the present he turned the key on the ignition and the truck began to move forward. Glancing again at his passenger, he was surprised that she'd turned from him to gaze into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Princess at War

Chapter Two

As the trucks rolled on into the night, Cain drove, his eyes fixed upon the road, despite the temptation to his right. She'd made no attempt at conversation after the first moments of introduction, simply watching out the window for nearly an hour and then finally gathering her cloak around herself, curling up in the seat to sleep.

Cain, on the other hand, could not have been more awake despite not having slept in nearly two days. As the night wore on and the first rays of sunlight began to brighten the sky, he wracked his brain for whatever scraps of information he could remember about there being another Gale princess. He remembered the current Queen coming to consult the Mystic Man many years ago, and that in her retinue was a Prince; a tall man similar in age to the Queen and possessing the same blue black hair. With this Prince, there were two older children, two girls or perhaps a boy and a girl? It had been so many years ago and he'd not paid as much attention as he should. The children, he remembered, had been very active, arguing and shoving each other when the adults weren't looking. When the Mystic Man had turned to them though, both were transformed, behaving as sweetly as possible.

Was this one of those children? What had become of the Prince or the other child? Cain continued to drive and try to remember but nothing more came to him.

His stomach began growling just before they pulled to the pre arranged rest stop. Pulling to stop, he leaned over to wake the Princess who appeared sound asleep, but before his fingers could make contact with her shoulder, she'd grabbed his arm and pulled her knife. He stopped and stared into her eyes, she simply stared back, unblinkingly.

"Break time, Princess. You have 3 minutes to do what you need."

At the words, she nodded and got out of the cab. As her feet, touched the earth, she turned back toward him. " Sorry about the knife, old habits, you know." She waited till he nodded, to signify he understood and then she headed into the woods to take her break. Cain glanced at the time and got out of the vehicle.

By the time she'd returned, a satchel had been placed in the front seat. One look told her it was breakfast, but she didn't touch it till Cain returned. "Ready?" he asked as he climbed behind the steering wheel. Kara looked at him and nodded. " All right, then." The engine turned and they began to move.

"It might not be proper protocol, but can you hand me some bread?" he asked, eyes still face forward. The simple request surprised Kara, few resistance fighters would trust another to touch their food, and to him she was a stranger. "Take some for yourself, of course," he added, as though this was a simple outing among friends. Oddly, she felt herself letting out a sigh and beginning to relax. Reaching into the bag, she examined it's contents. Bread, butter, jam, fruit, a container of something that may have been coffee before it had gone cold, juice and an empty container that smelt like muglug.

"Sorry, I got hungry last night," he said when he noticed she was smelling the jar. " If it makes you feel any better, it really wasn't all that good," he said with a grin that told her, she'd missed a fantastic bowl of soup. "So, how's about that bread?"

Kara found herself laughing. "Bread coming up. Would you like butter and jam, perhaps?"

" A bit of butter wouldn't hurt, no to the jam, thanks." Fumbling around in the moving truck, Kara prepared the bread, cut some fruit and poured some juice for both of them. "Too bad, the coffee's cold, I could use a cup," said Cain with a sigh.

"I suppose I could fix that," said Kara, taking the clay jar from the bag. Closing her eyes, she held the jar tightly in both hands for a moment, as the cab began to fill with the delicious aroma of brewing coffee. " It won't be as good as fresh brewed, but it should hit the spot."

"Well, Princess, that is one handy trick," said Cain as he took the cup into his free hand trying not to act impressed at the display of magic.

"It's always good to be appreciated."

Kara took the cup back and handed Cain the bread. The process of feeding him took about ten minutes, until he finally was full. "My compliments to the chef."

Taking her turn, Kara took a sip of coffee and finally took a good look at her driver. Cain was not what she imagined, he seemed a little too large for the cab, not in size but in personality. He spoke with authority and was an obvious leader, she knew from reports that he was whip smart and earned his place in the Queen's respect. The reports had neglected to mention the too blue eyes and the way the hair curled gently at the base of his skull or the full lips that seemed ready to slip into a scandalous smirk without warning or even...

"Something wrong?" asked Cain when he noticed her gaze.

"No, of course not. I was just curious about the hero who helped destroy the witch," she said to cover herself.

"There were many involved in her destruction, I don't take any credit," said Cain, embarrassed by the compliment.

" No, you're not the type who would," she said.

Cain turned and was about to speak when the first bullets hit the cab. Her seat was empty, the cab door open, her supple body rolling out of the truck, weapons drawn. In the moment it took to slam on the brakes, Cain watched the world around him explode.

Author's Note: Forgot to ask yesterday, please read and review. Thanks to all. L.


	3. Chapter 3

Princess at War

Chapter 3

The angle of the suns as they passed behind the clouds created pictures of light on the verdant green swirls of the maze. DG, with her sketch book on the ground, was lying on her stomach trying to capture the scene as quickly as possible before an inopportune wind changed the image. She'd just begun to smudge a line when a sensation of awareness tore through her body, "Cain was in danger."

DG tore through the garden toward the palace with a single thought, "Cain."

DG found Ambrose and the Queen in a small anteroom that had been converted into a command center, they were busy charting the movements of a Longcoat general named Lafferty, who was now installing himself as a warlord in the Eastern mountains and attempting to control the fertile Clade river valley below.

Bursting through the door, DG shouted from across the room. "Cain, the trucks, they're being attacked!"

Worry fell on both Ambrose and Lavender. "How do you know, my angel?"

"I can feel it, see it," said DG. " I can't explain it but I know it's happening." Her face was full of terror and frustration, Cain was in danger and no one was doing anything.

"Cain knew the risk," said Ambrose, without meeting DG's eyes.

"We have to help him," she could barely speak the words, as the images of the battle pounding through her head. "Please, Mother?"

Lavender glanced quickly at Glitch who was shaking his head, and then back at her daughter. "Ambrose, we must..."

"But, Your Majesty, the plan depends upon secrecy."

"And my daughter depends on Cain. Summon the troops."

Cain was out of the vehicle in a moment, pistol drawn and firing. His men poured from the vehicles, mounting a strong defense in all directions. The attackers seemed everywhere, the sounds of bullets and shouting filling the air. The ambushers had thrown incendiary bombs into the brush at the road's edge, anyone trying to escape would find their way blocked by a wall of flame.

Smoke had begun to billow toward the road, the air was hot and dirty and both the ambushers and the defenders struggled for breath as they fought. Cain looked for Kara in the madness, knowing his most important mission was to keep her safe, if anywhere at that moment was actually safe, he couldn't tell.

Cain caught sight of her twice during the battle, her slender arms swinging the blade of the sword, into the flank of the attackers, cutting back and forth as though she was paddling through rough waters. Kara's dark hair swung freely, her cloak billowing as she ran. Before he could make his way to her, she was gone.

The solider on Cain's left went down, his face torn back away from his skull by a shotgun blast. Turning on his heel, Cain fired at the holder of the shotgun and within a moment, he too had crumpled to the ground. The battle lasted only a few minutes before the bravado of the attackers turned to fear, within a half hour all sixteen attackers were dead.

Cain gave the order to put out the fires and see about salvaging the trucks.

"How many dead?" asked Kara, her faced still flushed with the exertion. She and Cain had found each other once the fighting ended.

"Three."

"Injured?"

"Six with serious injuries, a few more just battered and bruised."

"Where are they?"

He indicated the vehicle in the middle of the column; it had taken the least damage. Turning her back on Cain, Kara walked toward the transport. The inside to the truck reeked of blood and vomit, but she didn't seem to notice. Walking between the injured, she bent and touched each man on the cheek, the caress seemed tender, though it lasted only a moment. The change upon each face was immediate, grimaces of pain changed to tranquil smiles.

"The touch of a healer," said Cain, standing right behind her.

"Sadly, that gift is not mine. The touch will only give them a few hours peace from the pain; hopefully in that time, we can get them to a Viewer or to medical help. I can do no more."

Her voice was low, her eyes no longer shone, their green had darkened as though some internal light had been withdrawn. Cain felt the urge to reach out and hold her, to offer comfort but instead he simply touched her arm. " No-one could ask more of you."

Kara looked at him for a moment, and then with a sigh, gave him a weary smile.

" Let's go see who attacked us."

On the surface it looked like a Longcoat attack, the bodies of their enemies lined up on the roadside, a row of black against the white gravel, looking like the keys on a piano.

"Old men, boys, Longcoat deserters, farmers, this was a raiding party. They had no idea who or what we were carrying, we just happened along at the wrong time."

"Why attack us?"

"They were probably hungry. Our possessions and what they could salvage from the trucks would buy a few weeks food, at least. Many are hungry in the OZ these days."

"Surely, they could farm or get work."

"It will be months before the harvest and empty bellies make poor workers."

They had nearly finished their repairs when reinforcements from the palace arrived. With luck they would reach Finaqua after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Princess at War – Chapter 4

The trip the rest of the way back to Finaqua, was silent for Cain. The seat that had been Kara's was occupied by one of the sleeping, wounded soldiers from his company. Too much time, he thought, to sit and think. In the weeks, since the eclipse, Cain had seen little of the OZ. Following the victory, Glitch and those advisors still left alive in the Witch's Tower thought it best to remove the Royal Family to Finaqua. He had busied himself with matters of state and security, spending time with Jeb, but mostly, with DG.

The OZ was a new world to her, and she had chosen Cain to be the one to explain it. Some days, she would follow him around as he trained recruits, sat in on meetings with the Queen, or supervised the fortification of the palace. Other days, DG would disappear for hours. On those days, he was forced to find her, for it seemed no one else could. No, he corrected, "forced" was not the right word. He looked forward to those hours of the chase, and even more to when he did catch up with her and they could spend some time alone; sharing a stolen treat, exchanging a joke or just sitting quietly together. She would act offended that he'd found her; then throw her arms around him for a hug. Those moments in her arms were a rare treasure; he could feel her life, her vibrancy, her joy. It reminded him that he too, was still alive, still capable of feeling.

It was late afternoon, when they finally arrived at the Palace. Cain was relieved to be back, despite the failure of the mission. Though they had successfully retrieved their target; the battle on the forest's edge had cost them their secrecy. By now, every Longcoat, warlord or criminal in the OZ, knew of their mission. Kara, the Royal family and everyone at Finaqua was at great danger.

Walking down the hallways of Finaqua, Kara felt she had fallen into a dream. These were the halls of her childhood, each corner and nook holding memories; the smells of cinnamon and silver polish, the sound of the great clock that hung in the main Gallery, the portrait of a fat, great Uncle with an oversized moustache and the ancient uniform. How many times, she wondered, had her heart despaired of ever being here again. She'd been taken to her old bedroom to freshen up, a burgundy velvet gown placed on the bed. There were flowers and warm soapy water in the bath. Kara could almost imagine the last fifteen years to be an illusion, until she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. When had the girl she had been the last time she stood here, become the woman who stood before her?

As instructed she took her time, to rest and wash, to dress and preen, until finally standing in the mirror was a princess of the realm. Her green eyes shone, her black hair cascading in gentle waves down her back, the velvet gown clinging and sliding over each curve. Taking the gold coronet from the stand, she opened her door and slipped into the dark.

Kara was nearly at the reception hall, when she came upon Cain. He was distracted for a moment, shuffling the maps and lists he held in his hands, her footfalls silent; a skill learned from those many years on the run. He sensed her and stopped, suddenly, awash in her beauty. Kara smiled at him, without knowing why. He was wearing a dress uniform and was obviously uncomfortable. The blue of the jacket reflected the blue of his eyes, and for the first time in years found herself flustered. She'd spent years surrounded by men, yet strangely alone; and now something was different.

Before either could speak a bell sounded, the audience had begun.

Thanks for the reviews. Hopefully it's going well. L.


	5. Chapter 5

Princess at War

Chapter Five

The sound of the bell summoned both back from their thoughts. Bowing deeply, with a grin, Cain stepped forward and offered his arm. The gesture threw Kara, protocol forbade her enter with a man not of her rank unless there was an attachment between them, while good manners said to refuse the arm of a gentleman was an insult. She hesitated a moment before taking Cain's arm, she had never really adhered to protocol anyway and to insult a potential friend was foolish.

"My Lady," he said quietly as he wrapped her arm around his and they continued down the hall. Their hands had brushed briefly, enough for her to notice the warmth of his skin.

When they arrived, the doors swung inward as if opened by invisible hands. Someone, Lavender or Azkadellia thought her worthy of a bit of pomp. Lavender was sitting on her throne, with Ahamo to her right, his hand resting on her shoulder. Standing behind, nearly shadowed were two young women, Az and DG she supposed.

As they approached the throne, Cain released her and stepped away. The final steps seemed very long before she stood at the edge of the dias.

"Your Fairest Majesty, Giver of Light and Keeper of the Heart of the Outer Zone," she spoke the words clearly as she curtsied. She had chosen the ancient greeting as a reminder to all of the importance of the Queen.

With a smile, Lavender rushed down to her, enveloping Kara in her arms. "That is too formal a greeting for family," she said, holding her tightly. Kara returned the hug with as much force as she could with hurting Lavender. For a few moments the women just held each other smiling, their eyes filled with tears.

" I had not thought to see you again, Kara," said Lavender, finally.

"Nor I, cousin," said Kara shaking her head.

"I grieved when you lost your father, the witch was kind enough to inform me of this death," said Lavender, no longer able to prevent her tears.

Ahamo appeared at Lavender's side, his hand sliding to the small of her back to offer support and comfort. "Kara, welcome, you have been much missed." Kara stepped forward and held Ahamo and Lavender within her embrace.

" Ahamo, you still are the most charming and handsome man in the three quadrants," said Kara. Ahamo and Lavender laughed deeply at the comment. Ahamo ran his fingers though his graying hair and said, "Perhaps, not all three, anymore."

The three figures turned toward the women behind them. Azkedellia looked stricken, how could she greet this woman from whom the witch had taken so much? Kara stepped forward her arms open, "Azkedellia? Do you remember me? We were great friends once, many years ago, I hope to have your friendship again, someday."

The words were simple but they were what Az needed to hear. She ran to Kara, her face filled with tears. Kara caressed her cheeks and held her. "I never blamed you, I always knew it was the witch," said Kara, squeezing Az tighter.

There were still embracing when DG approached. Smiling Kara extended a hand, "You might not remember me, DG, but I am your cousin, Kara. When you were a little girl my brother, Alex and I used to call you "Monkey", for you were forever getting into trouble." Ignoring her hand, DG pulled her into a hug.

"Enough of these tearful greetings, I'm hungry," said Ahamo to lighten the mood. "Cain, Ambrose, join my family for a meal."

At the mention of the name Ambrose, Kara turned. It had been many years since she'd seen him and the travesty of the zipper tore at her heart. She put on smile and captured his face within her hands. "Ozma, how I've missed you. Did you know you were my first crush?" she asked laughing.

"You were eleven and I believe the horrible poetry you kept sending me, was a pretty good clue," said Ambrose, his face alight with laughter.

"I was practically twelve and I never signed any of the poetry."

"No, it wasn't signed but you did send it on your own royal stationary," he said laughing even harder at the memory.

When everyone's laughter died down, she took Ambrose's arm and headed into supper.

The dinner was simple compared to the royal standards that Kara remembered as a child, but the food was hearty and there was more then Kara had seen in many years as a resistance fighter. The conversation began sombrely, as the Queen asked about friends and family, that she had not seen since before her confinement by the witch. Kara would simply shake her head to indicate that this or that person was no more.

In an effort to change things, Ambrose told a funny story about an experiment gone wrong. His theory, he insisted had been brilliant; it was simply the method of application that had lacked something. As the story unfolded and became more and more preposterous, everyone at the table was nearly doubled over with laughter.

Cain went next telling a story of when Jeb was a child. The ingredients involved a goat, a beehive and Jeb's overactive imagination. The sillier things became, the more animated Cain was in his storytelling. It was hard for Kara to take her eyes off Cain, as she glanced about the table taking in each of the smiling faces, she noticed the look that DG had while looking at Cain was different. It was as though she and Cain were the only ones in the room. Kara had seen that look before, once a long time ago, on her own face. Princess Dorothy Gale as in love, and she was not really aware of it herself.

OPPS: Sorry have been forgetting to add the disclaimers, No I don't own anything, though if someone has a spare Cain we could DEFINITELY arrange a deal. Thanks to all for the reviews and taking the time to read. Bunches of hugs, L.


	6. Chapter 6

Princess at War

Chapter 6

It was barely past the start of second watch, as she wove her way down the halls and corridors of the palace. The night was chill on her bare arms and the nightgown she wore did little to keep her warm; so as she passed the large window in the upper gallery, she adjusted her shawl. Her long black hair was plaited down her back making her look much younger than her years. The trips to his room had begun shortly after they reached Finaqua, while he might not risk coming to her, for should he be caught, there was the danger of imprisonment or worse. On the other hand, no one would question the right of a princess to be in any part of the palace. The need for secrecy remained, for gossip, no matter how harmless would eventually wind its way up to her mother.

He turned with a smile when she slipped through the door, his blond hair shimmering in the candlelight. He knew she'd come to him tonight, as she always did when he'd been away on a mission, her need to be near him the strongest when he'd been in danger. He stepped toward her, his arms extended and she ran to him.

"You're cold," he said, stroking her along her slender arms and the curve of her back. "Come by the fire."

"I needed to see you, to touch you, to know that you were alright."

"I promised you, I would be," he sounded reassuringly, but still she held him tighter.

"Anything could have happened, I couldn't bear to lose you," her voice was full of emotion.

"Az, when I promised you that I'd always return to you, I meant it." He kissed her then slowly and deeply, savouring the flavour of her mouth, the silken strands of her hair and the scent of her skin that he carried with him in a secret corner of his heart. She had become so a part of him, that even a passing thought of her would summon a cascade of sensation.

Without conscience effort, they had curled up together on the oversize chair near the fire. Azkadellia seemed calmer, her fingers winding small curls in his hair, while she slowly placed kisses upon the features of his face. Jeb simply held her, rhythmically running his hands along her arms and back as though he was caressing a cat. He was afraid to do more, for fear of startling her.

Their relationship had begun within hours of the death of the witch, when his father had assigned him to safeguard the princess, for there was no one else he could trust. Jeb had found her locked in the witch's former bedchamber, hiding in a wardrobe for fear someone would come and try to kill her. The hatred he'd had for her, when he'd believed she was the Sorceress, died as he watched the emotional torment that she was going through. DG had wanted to stay with her but her magic was needed to help with the wounded, for the overload would have destroyed Raw.

Jeb had tried to talk her out of hiding but Azkadellia refused all his coaxing. To feel useful and to keep his boredom at bay, for he needed to stay sharp, the Princess was his responsibility and there were many in the castle, his own men included, who wished for her blood; Jeb began to tell stories. Stories of the monsters and heroes of myth, the old folktales of the OZ, tales of his own childhood, any type of lore he could think of.

As the day wore on, he could tell she was listening, the sad sobbing had stopped and when the yarn reached its crest, he could hear her gasp, as he paused for effect. At the end of the third saga, he stretched and sat down by the wardrobe door. Reaching into his pack, he retrieved some bread and fruit, and the canteen he carried of water.

"No use being hungry," he said and proceeded to eat. His mouth was full when he asked her if he'd like some, but received no response. Tearing a piece of bread off the loaf and taking an apple, Jeb slowly placed the food on the floor of the wardrobe and waited, eating loudly. Within a moment, a slender white hand reached out and snatched the food. Jeb repeated the process with cup of his water, it too disappeared within.

"Could you tell me another story, please?" asked a voice from within the wardrobe. Jeb was surprised at the sound, it was timid and innocent as though spoken by a child. " When I was a girl, my father would tell us legends for hours."

"I tell you my favourite story, if you will come out of the wardrobe," said Jeb trying to sound both friendly and firm. "Please, Princess?"

He waited a minute and was about to begin the tale anyway, when Azkadellia emerged. She had removed the gaudy gown the witch favoured and wore a simple shift. The time and torment in the wardrobe had made a tangle of her hair; her eyes were rimmed with red from the hours of crying. Looking at her Jeb felt that he was seeing an oversize child in the body of a woman. He reached out his hand and she shrunk back from him.

"It's alright, the suns are about to set. I'll light a fire and you curl up here." Jeb had motioned to the settee that sat in front of the hearth.

Az did as she was told but kept as far away from him as possible. Before he bent to build the fire, he gave her a quilt off the bed, which her fingers clung to as though the bedspread was a magical shield. " I hate the night, it frightens me," she said, quietly.

"That's why I'm here so that nothing can harm you."

"Why you? You were part of the resistance, surely, you want nothing more than my death," her words were flat and emotionless.

" I wanted the end of the witch. You are not the witch."

"How can you be sure? She controlled my body for so long, I'm not even sure where she ended and I began. Perhaps, I share her evil."

" There is little that I know for sure, but one thing is that whatever you are or whoever you may become, it won't contain malice." She smiled then, at the firmness of his conviction and his faith in her. " Now, I believe I'd promised you a story."

By the time Cain came to relieve Jeb; Azkadellia was fast asleep and Jeb had chosen to protect her for as long as she would have him.

*sorry, about the delay in the story, it's the old having to work story. Unfortunately, I still don't own Cain and company, and so far no one has offered to sell him to me either. Hopefully, the story is not going too horribly so far, I'm trying to keep the tangents under control. Hugs, L.


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